


Love Me Back To Life

by winterfirehair



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King, Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Child Death, Child Neglect, F/M, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Other Ships To Be Added, Period-Typical Homophobia, Sexual Violence, The lovely bones au, Underage Rape/Non-con, other characters to be added - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-22
Updated: 2018-08-22
Packaged: 2019-07-01 06:38:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15768633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winterfirehair/pseuds/winterfirehair
Summary: "You can't love someone back to life.""I can try."





	1. Prologue

You're always wiser in hindsight.

When you play a video game, that's actually quite helpful. You'll make a mistake and die, but you can start again and avoid making the same mistake.

But real life isn't like video games.

You can't restart your life to avoid making mistakes, no matter how much you wish you could.

Trust me on that, because I know. I've tried.

My name is Bill Denbrough and I was murdered on April 9, 1989.


	2. One

The first person I met in my heaven was a dark-skinned boy who introduced himself as Mike. His full name was Michael, but he preferred to be called by his nickname. Being in the same situation - no one but my parents and some teachers called me William - I instantly felt a connection to him.

Mike was a great companion. He was very intelligent and while we watched the living, he always had something clever to say. We were the same age when we had stopped aging, but sometimes I felt like Mike had been around for a long time. He seemed to know so much more about the world than I did.

He had wanted to become a librarian when he was still alive while I had always dreamed of becoming an author. Naturally, we had our own library in our heaven and when we weren't watching the living, that was the place we were hanging out together the most. My own books were displayed everywhere in that library. It was easier writing them here than it was on earth - I just had to think about the story I wanted to tell and it wrote itself just like I imagined it. Mike would always read my books and he would smile and laugh and cry and then he would tell me that I was a genius. I could've become the next Stephen King.

There was a lot of could've's and would've's in our heaven.

Mike would always listen to me when I told him about all the things I could've done or would've done if I had gotten the chance to live past the age of thirteen. And sometimes he would even talk about all the things he could've or would've done if he had lived, but he was telling them differently. It took me a while to understand what exactly was different, but one day I realized: Mike had given up on all of his dreams. He had settled with the fact that he was dead.


End file.
